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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322549">Dancing With Your Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JavierDjarin/pseuds/JavierDjarin'>JavierDjarin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pedro Pascal - Fandom, Prospect (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Smut, Language, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:14:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JavierDjarin/pseuds/JavierDjarin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra Ashford grew up as Ezra Dawson from Nowhere, LA. Poor &amp; penniless, he accepted the offer from a shipping company that was headed for an unknown destination. It wasn’t until he met and fell in love with a beautiful woman during his orientation in Charleston, NC did he realize what he wanted in life. However, he was leaving at the end of the month, and had nothing to offer her, except his heart and empty promises. Now, 5 years have passed. She is having marital issues with her faithless husband; she is contemplating leaving him, but the scandal would be enough to put her parents in an early grave. They’re a perfect match socially. Bringing their two families together was the event of the decade. Samuel J. Crawford had cheated on her since day one, but she couldn’t disappoint her family. They didn’t love each other. Maybe at one time they felt fondly of the other, but there was never any love. She doesn’t dream of her husband when she falls asleep at night. No. She only thinks of the one man she truly loves: Ezra Ashford. Across the bay she sees the parties that light up the skies every Friday night. It isn’t until her best friend’s newest beau mentions Mr. Ashford does she have this longing to go and investigate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a Gatsby AU with Ezra from Prospect.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s the anniversary of a sad event in your personal history. Your granddaughter decides to keep you company and begs for you to tell her the one story she loved hearing as she grew up: The story of you.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was raining. It always rained on this day. It didn’t matter how many years passed or what the forecast was, without fail, it rained. You glanced out over the misty lawn and took a step out into the rain; droplets rolling down your cheeks masking the tears. You didn’t even notice that your foot had sunk into a puddle, soaking all the way through your house slippers. What did it matter?  Looking down at the ring on your now wrinkled finger, your heart broke. Every year this day was harder to deal with. They always said it would get easier, the grief would go away, but they were wrong. They were so wrong. There was a hollow piece of your heart - soul - where he used to be. Each time you thought about him, the absence was strong and you could feel the tear expand.</p><p>“Grandma!” you heard a voice call from behind you, but you didn’t bother turning to see. It was your beautiful granddaughter, your shadow. </p><p>Her feet splashed through the puddles as she approached you with an umbrella. “Grandma,” she demanded, “what are you doing out here? Where is your jacket?”</p><p>You smiled at her with that typical, loving, grandmotherly smile and patted the seat next to you. You were so proud of Sophia. Beautiful, sophisticated, and wild - just like you were back in your day. She had your eyes, but she had his grin. She glanced down at the wet bench and then back up at you. “Dad isn’t going to be happy…”</p><p>You rolled your eyes. “Your father will get over it,” you replied as you turned your attention back out across the garden.</p><p>“Please, Grandma,” she begged, “I fixed some tea.”</p><p>You sighed and stood up, looping your arm through hers. “Alright, let’s go inside. I’ll let you fix me a cup of tea and you can tell me about that new beau you went with last night.”</p><p>She tried to hide her smile. “He’s perfect,” she sighed, “but Daddy doesn’t like him.”</p><p>You laughed and patted her arm. “You think my Daddy liked your grandfather?”</p><p>Sophia glanced at her before opening the door. “Was he trouble?” she chuckled.</p><p>“Oh,” you nodded, “the worst kind.” You gave her a quick wink and walked in.</p><p>“I wish I could have met him,” she sighed.</p><p>“He would have spoiled you rotten.” </p><p>After you changed into dry clothes, she led you to the enclosed porch where she left the tea set, pouring you a cup and making sure you were comfortable. You took a sip and relished in the taste: lavender, your favorite. You leaned back with the cup in your hand, gazing through the window. This place hadn’t changed much since you moved in. A few modifications here and there when your son and his wife had moved in, but overall it looked the same as the day you walked in for the first time. “Today’s the day, isn’t it?” she asked you.</p><p>You turned your misty eyes back to her and nodded. “I miss him everyday,” you added.</p><p>Sophia leaned forward and held your hand in hers. “Tell me the story again,” she begged, “like you used to when I was little.”</p><p>You shook your head. “You should be going out instead of staying here with me,” you said, “besides, you didn’t tell me about this mystery man you’ve been seeing.”</p><p>She smiled again. “I think he’s the one, Grandma,” she said, leaning back against the couch. She let out a lovesick sigh, one you recognized. You remembered when you head over heels for a man to the point it made you ache.</p><p>“Oh, didn’t you just meet him?” you chuckled and sipped your tea.</p><p>“You’re telling me you didn’t just know when you met Grandpa?” she asked, giving you a knowing look.</p><p>Letting out a deep breath, you set your drink on the table and looked at your mini-me sitting adjacent to you. If she truly was anything like you, then this man was her one. She loved fast and hard, and nothing would ever stop her. “You remind me so much of me in my younger and more vulnerable years,” you said.</p><p>“You say that all the time,” she chuckled.</p><p>And you meant it. “I hope he is the one, Sophia,” you added, “there’s no better feeling than finding him. So hold on to him and don’t let him go.” You smiled at her. “And I’ll take care of your father.”</p><p>She beamed. “Please, Grandma, tell me the story.”</p><p>You grabbed your drink and took another sip. “We’re going to need another pot of tea if I’m going to tell you my life’s story,” you chuckled.</p><p>Sophia squealed and ran to start one. There was a knock on the front door, which she exclaimed she got. You sat patiently on the porch, wrapped in an old blanket and listening to the rain beat against the windows. Suddenly you were transported back to a time where you were wrapped up in his arms, sheets clinging to your bodies as you slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of a summer thunderstorm. You closed your eyes and smiled at the memory. You were lost in your thoughts, again, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Grandma,” Sophia whispered, “This is Charlie.”</p><p>You looked up and saw a tall, young man with deep green eyes and dark hair. His arm was resting around her waist as he held her close. You held out your hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Charles,” you said, “you must be the man here to steal my granddaughter away.”</p><p>He nervously laughed. “I tried, but she insisted I stay for tea and listen to the ‘most romantic story’ she’s ever heard.”</p><p>You glanced at your granddaughter over the rim of your glasses. “Oh really?”</p><p>“I told him I wanted to stay with you today, and he offered to come over and keep both of us company,” she smiled.</p><p>You rolled your eyes at her. “Sophia,” you chastised, “I don’t want you to put your plans on hold just because of what day it is. I don’t mind sitting here while you’re out. It’ll do me some good to have some peace and quiet. Besides, your parents will be home soon anyway, and I can bother them.”</p><p>You loved your son and daughter-in-law. It was so easy to drive him insane with your antics, but he loved you regardless. You and Tristan had been through so much together, and as crazy as you made him, he could never stay mad at you for long. Your daughter-in-law, Lily, loved it. Sometimes she’d join your side just to pick on him. Yes, you and your family were small, but extremely close. Sophia was their youngest daughter. Their other two children, Grace and Jonathan, were already grown and gone. Since birth, Sophia clung to you like a lifeline. She shared everything with you, and spending summers at your house in Kings Point only brought the two of you closer. Now that they’d moved in with her, she’d become her shadow.</p><p>“Please, Grandma. I think it’ll be good for you, especially today,” she pleaded, pouring you another cup of tea.</p><p>You looked between the two of them: one skeptical and one begging. You raised an eyebrow at Charlie and smirked. “If this doesn’t scare you away, then you might just make it here.”</p><p>He let out another nervous laugh and sat down with Sophia on the couch adjacent to you. She curled up next to him and waited for you to begin retelling the tale that she only knew the surface of, but could probably recite by heart.  Sophia didn’t know the half of it, no - she would never know the half of it. There were parts that you would take to your grave, parts that belonged only to you and the one man you ever loved; the man who captured your heart when you were a twenty year old woman and held onto it for the last sixty-five years. Only on occasion have you even mentioned his name, save for telling this story. Even his name was a part of you; etched into your soul as the permanent mark he left behind. It was the most beautiful name you’d ever breathed, the most melodic name you’d ever cried; the only name you ever wanted to fall off your lips. His name was meant for you and no one else. </p><p>image<br/>
You sighed and leaned back in your chair and smiled at them. “Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still hear my grandmother’s voice telling me ‘your first love is always alive and lives always in you. No matter how much you try to forget, it will never leave your heart’,” you began, “she held me close and ran her fingers through my hair trying to mend a broken heart that I was certain would never love again.”</p><p>Charlie moved a little, and asked a question. “I thought this was a romantic story?”</p><p>Sophia elbowed him. “It is!” she exclaimed. “Just listen.”</p><p>He kissed the top of her head and laughed, as they waited for you to continue. “The year was 1917 and I was still living in North Carolina. My parents were furious with me that I had declined another proposal from one of Charleston’s most ‘eligible bachelors.’ My mother told me I had until my twenty first birthday to find someone, or she was taking my life into her own hands. And, by find someone, she meant a man the family approved of that would only further their social status at the expense of my happiness.” You sighed and shook your head, remembering how stubborn that woman was. “So, a cool man drifting in from nowhere with no status in all of North Carolina was completely out of the question.”</p><p>“You married him, didn’t you?” Charlie smiled.</p><p>“Shh!” Sophia chuckled. “Let her tell the story.”</p><p>You smiled into your cup of tea before continuing. You were whisked away to a time when the country was prospering. Parties were bigger, morals were looser, and booze was everywhere. Back then, everything was so different. Simple, yet complex. There were days you wished it was the summer of 1922 all over again. The room around you suddenly filled with all the ghosts of your past, music echoing through the hallways, cheers erupting when the band finished. Then, there he was: slicked back hair with a small blonde streak running through the dark brown; perfectly pressed black suit and crisp bow tie; and a smile that extended through his beautiful brown eyes. You were twenty-five again. You could almost feel the cool summer breeze washing in from the bay through the open windows as you swayed in his arms with a soft waltz playing in the background. You picked your head up off his chest, gently placing a kiss on his lips. He smiled at you again, happy that you were in his arms after so long. Resting your head back against his chest and listening to his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but let all your worries slip away. Nothing mattered anymore. Not Sam. Not your family. Not when it was just you and Ezra Ashford.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s the summer of 1922. Your cousin Nick has moved close to you, so you invite him over to catch up. He gets to experience first hand how badly your life has fallen apart since he’d last seen you. But you soon get a glimmer of hope when you hear an old name you hadn’t heard in years.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m excited for this Gatsby AU fic. This is my first time writing for Ezra, so I hope I do his character justice. I hope you enjoy this. I love you all and thank you for the overwhelming amount of support! Let me know what you think!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Summer 1922<br/></b>
</p><p>You remembered, when you were younger, sitting with your grandmother on her back porch during the middle of a North Carolina summer. Her servants would bring out cool glasses of lemonade or iced tea for you to sip on while the heat caused your pretty white sundress to stick to your legs. You hated wearing those frilly sundresses, but it was your duty. Being from one of the most esteemed families in Charleston meant that even from a young age, you were held to higher standards. During the summers, your grandmother frequently hosted teas, luncheons, and the occasional weekend party. This was considered the high time for the “social season,” and since the town looked at your grandmother and family as royalty, she made sure everyone lived up to the expectation. If anyone received an invitation to attend any one of her events, it was the highest honor. People revered your family more than the governor’s. </p><p>You remembered sitting at a particular luncheon with your grandmother and meeting your best friend, Charlotte, at the ripe age of seven years old. Since then, the two of you were inseparable. She was a part of every major event of your life: school, graduation, heartbreak, and even your wedding to Samuel J. Crawford. That wedding was a spectacle and deemed the wedding of the century by <em>Vanity Fair.</em> Combining your family with Chicago Royalty, The Crawfords, had everyone in the country talking for months. It was a match set up by your parents, and much to your heartache, you had no choice but to accept his proposal. He courted you for a mere five months before asking, and you were married in June of 1918.</p><p>Four years later, you found yourself living on Sands Point in New York just down the road from Charlotte and her aunt. In reality, she had become a permanent resident in your guest bedroom. You woke up one summer morning and dressed in your whitest sundress, making sure the small curls of your bobbed hair were pinned up properly. You floated down the stairs and found your butler and housekeeper ensuring everything would be prepared for your guests today. Your cousin had just moved across the bay to Kings Point, and you wanted him to come over for lunch the minute he was settled. “Mistress,” your butler said, “today we will be serving crab cakes and caviar with a Pinot Grigio for the ladies and Scotch or Bourbon for the gentlemen.”</p><p>You smiled and nodded at him. “Sounds perfect, Fitz.” You looked past him into Sam’s study, noticing it was empty.</p><p>“Mr. Crawford is out for a ride this morning,” he said, too fast.</p><p>You gave him a look that told him you didn’t believe him, but continued discussing lunch. “Are we still eating on the terrace?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Nicholas will be here at noon,” you continued, “I would like lunch served at 12:30.”</p><p>“Of course.” He bowed and moved to the kitchen to relay the rest of your orders.</p><p>You moved into your sunroom, to which the servants opened all the doors and windows to allow air to move freely about. The sheer white and blue curtains blew in the wind. You could feel the ocean breeze washing in from the bay as you sat comfortably on the sofa with a book in your hand. Charlotte was still asleep, and so you decided to busy yourself until she woke up. However, you couldn’t concentrate. Your wedding anniversary was in two weeks, and it always brought up painful memories of what you had to let go. </p><p>“Good morning,” you heard Charlotte’s cool voice float in a few hours later.</p><p>You turned and smiled at her. “Good morning.” You moved over so she could sit by you. Learning against the arm rest, you both propped your feet up, facing each other. “I seriously think you’re going to like Nicholas.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I will, Vi.”</p><p>That was her nickname for you, Violet. Your favorite flower quickly became your nickname when you were younger, and Charlotte <em>loved</em> reminding you of it from time to time. “I can’t believe you don’t remember him,” you chuckled, “he was there that summer we went to the Hamptons for a month, Lotte.”</p><p>Charlotte shook her head. “I do not remember him,” she replied. You gave her a playful grin and folded your hands in your lap. She sighed and glanced over to you. “But I’ll give him a shot.”</p><p>You let out a soft laugh, but then stopped when you heard a car pull into your drive. “Sam’s home,” you solemnly said.</p><p>“Where the hell was he this early?”</p><p>You let out a frustrated breath and stared at her with a serious expression. “He didn’t come home last night. Fitz tried to cover for him by saying he got up early for a ride, but I’m not a fool.”</p><p>She seethed and curled her lip when she heard his voice boom in the foyer. “Y/N!” he exclaimed.</p><p>You moved to greet him, but Charlotte leaned forward to stop you. “He can come in here,” she spat.</p><p>The two of you could hear his riding boots click across the marble floor, drawing closer to the sunroom. “There you are!” he exclaimed. His arrogant, green eyes were situated perfectly above his hard mouth. He fit the part of a pretentious Harvard graduate from one of the <em>finest</em> families in America. He stood in the doorway, almost taking up the entire space with his tall, muscular body that filled his riding clothes to the seam - his glistening boots bursting at the top. With every move he made, it was easy to see the pack of muscles ripple. He was a man of incredible power that commanded attention wherever he went. He spoke with a gruff, husky baritone that echoed in even the loudest rooms. Women swooned everywhere he went; everywhere except this sunroom.</p><p>“I’ve been in here all morning,” you said, “Where have you been?”</p><p>He huffed and glared at Charlotte. “I see you’re still here,” he pointed out.</p><p>“I’ve been here longer than <em>you</em> have,” she replied, pretending to read a novel.</p><p>You saw his face turn red with anger. He and Charlotte never got along, and kept things hardly civil just for your sake. “The two of you <em>will</em> play nice today when Nicholas gets here,” you ordered.</p><p>“Oh yes!” Sam exclaimed. “He needs to come to the club with me sometime! The boys would love to see him.”</p><p>You rolled your eyes. Despite there might have been some truth to that statement, you knew what the ‘club’ was. “I’m sure they would,” you mumbled, “go change out of your <em>riding</em> clothes and into something more appropriate for lunch.”</p><p>He sneered and walked upstairs to change. Charlotte grinned at you and nodded. “Do you think he’ll actually wash off her perfume before he changes?” she snickered.</p><p>You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head. It was no news to anyone that Sam had a mistress. You’d lived in New York for two years, and he’d had a mistress for twenty three out of those twenty four months. The same could have been said when you briefly lived in Chicago and London. The scandal always leaked, and he decided the two of you would move to avoid the mess. However, now you were determined to stay in New York. If there was a scandal, damn him. You weren’t packing up again. “I don’t know how you stand it,” she added, “you know he’s seeing her.”</p><p>“A divorce is a bigger scandal than a mistress,” you said in a hushed tone, “Mama and Daddy would have a stroke if I divorced a Crawford, Lotte.”</p><p>She stood and walked to the wet bar, fixing herself a small glass. “I find him repulsive and this arrangement unfair. To hell with what your parents want. You’re not happy. You haven’t been since –”</p><p>You cut her off with an icy glare, joining her at the bar to fix your own. “Don’t,” you mumbled.</p><p>She gave you a short nod and returned to the sofa. She understood the subject was painful enough for you and didn’t want to upset you anymore. There was another car rumbling up the drive, to which you assumed was your cousin Nicholas. You heard Sam move down the stairs to greet him first, so you and Charlotte decided to stay put. It was too hot to move anyway. “Nick!” Sam’s voice echoed through the house.</p><p>Sam spun Nick around to look at your place. “I’ve got a nice place here,” he stated, “it took a while, but I finally got everything looking the way I want it.”</p><p>Nick nodded nervously and grinned. “Beautiful, Sam.”</p><p>He kept his arm wrapped around his shoulders as he steered him inside. “The girls are in the sunroom,” he said, leading him in. </p><p>Nicholas was a handsome young man of twenty-nine years. He had the same strong prominent jaw that ran in your family; it was no doubt to whom in the room he was related. He was dressed in a light brown, simple day suit with his hair slicked back. He looked absolutely meek compared to Sam; his kind, eyes nestled comfortably under his brow. As his eyes surveyed the room, you noticed Charlotte light up at the sight of him. Whether she remembered him or not, she was most definitely interested now. His eyes landed on you and his smile widened. You bounced off the sofa and approached him with open arms. “Nicky!” you exclaimed, holding your dearest cousin close. “I have missed you. Tell me, how was Chicago? Do they miss me?”</p><p>He kissed your cheek and laughed. “They are in absolute mourning. Everyone still dresses in all black as the mourners walk up and down the streets on Sundays.”</p><p>You gave him a smile and turned back to your seat next to Charlotte. “You jest,” you chuckled.</p><p>“Never with you.”</p><p>Charlotte cleared her throat and glared at you. “Oh, I’m sorry, Nicholas, I am being rude. This is my dearest friend, Charlotte Baker.”</p><p>He held her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I remember Lotte,” he replied, looking at her, “we met that summer in the Hamptons.”</p><p>“I told you!” you said, lightly shoving Charlotte.</p><p>“And I told you that whole summer was a blur to me,” she said, peering at you through the corner of her eyes.</p><p>“What are you doing now, Nick?” Sam asked as he poured himself a glass of Scotch.</p><p>Nicholas sat down in the chair adjacent to you. “I’m on Wall Street,” he said, “working investments.”</p><p>“With who?”</p><p>He said, and Sam huffed. “Never heard of them.”</p><p>You glanced over to Charlotte, who had rolled her eyes at Sam. He always had to be an authority on everything. You could tell his comment annoyed Nick, too. “You will if you stay here for long,” he replied, relaxing back into the plush fabric.</p><p>Sam shot a glare at you before looking back to Nick. “We will be staying here, if I have anything to say about it,” he said. He leaned forward against the back of the chair with his drink in his hand. </p><p>Fitz appeared in the doorway to signify lunch was ready. You stood and led the party to the terrace just outside the sunroom. Fitz had taken the liberty to make sure the umbrellas were open and tethered as everyone took their places. You smiled at Nicholas as he sat next to you across from Charlotte. “I’m so happy to have you at my table,” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a loving squeeze. </p><p>“Do you really live in Kings Point?” Tom said, biting into a crab cake.</p><p>Nick nodded. “I do,” he replied.</p><p>“How long have you been there?” Charlotte asked.</p><p>He glanced over to her. “About two weeks.”</p><p>She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. “I know someone out there.”</p><p>“I don’t know any –”</p><p>“Surely you must know Ashford,” she said.</p><p>You perked up at the name. It was a name you hadn’t heard in years. One that you only dreamt of when you were alone in your bed. “Ashford,” you softly said, not realizing you were actually speaking out loud. You gazed at Charlotte. “What Ashford?”</p><p>Charlotte’s eyes grew wide when she finally realized who this Ashford might be to you. Fitz reappeared and whispered into Sam’s ear, which ended that conversation quickly. You shook your head at Sam, who’d peered at you before following Fitz back into the house. You felt the anger rising in you, knowing who was on the other end of that phone call he took. Nick turned his attention back to you, trying to lighten the mood. “Ashford is my neighbor,” he added, “actually if we stood on the end of your dock, you could see his house.”</p><p>You nodded and turned your attention back to Nick, wanting to learn more about this Mr. Ashford, but deciding it was best if he was a topic that went undiscussed. Sam soon returned, giving everyone his fakest smile. “You’ll have to come to the club with me this week, Nick,” he said, “the guys will love seeing you around!”</p><p>Nick nodded. “There still a lot of Harvard grads around?”</p><p>Sam leaned back in his seat, holding his drink in his hand. “They’re all in New York. Why don’t we go out on Sunday? I’ll drive.”</p><p>Nicholas agreed before taking another bite of food. You glanced to Fitz, signaling you wanted another glass of wine. Lunch had passed by pleasantly as you caught up with your cousin. You could see him becoming enamored with Charlotte the longer they talked as he was greatly impressed with her tennis career. She had most recently won her last tournament and was the talk of the town. “You’ll have to come with us for her next match, Nick,” you smiled.</p><p>He glanced over at you, returning your grin. “I would <em>love</em> to.” </p><p>Charlotte laughed and blushed. “This is why Vi isn’t allowed to come to my tournaments.”</p><p>“And this is why I go anyway,” you grinned.</p><p>The sun started to disappear beyond the horizon when dinner was being prepared. You had convinced Nick to stay for supper before returning back to his home. You looped your arm through his and led him down into the garden. “I feel like I don’t know you anymore,” you admitted with a sigh, “we used to be close when we were younger.”</p><p>He nodded and patted your hand. “We grew up,” he mumbled, “and then I went off to war.”</p><p>You glanced up at him and smiled. You both stopped at the edge of the garden and looked across the bay. You could see faint lights directly across. The night before, it was lit up brighter than all of New York City. You could still hear the music echoing across the Sound. Sighing, you dropped the feigned happiness and looked at your cousin. “I’m sure you’ve heard things from our family,” you began.</p><p>He nodded. “My mother told me about the incident after your honeymoon. I wish I had been here for your wedding. I would have told your mother to stop it.”</p><p>You took another deep breath. “He thinks I’m blind,” you added.</p><p>Nick huffed. “Nick!” Sam exclaimed from the terrace.”Y/N!”</p><p>Rolling your eyes, you led him back into the house for dinner. You wanted nothing more than to leave Sam. He treated you like mere property and only showed you any kind of affection when you were around your families. Sam wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you into the dining room Fitz had prepared. He kissed your cheek before helping you to your seat. Charlotte gagged and then silently chuckled when she saw Nick’s amused gaze. You gave Sam a warm smile that quickly faded when the phone rang again. “Don’t,” you whispered in a growl.</p><p>He ignored your plea and quickly left the room to answer it. You growled and tossed your napkin on the table, stroming after him. Nick looked over to Charlotte, disappointed. “I don’t know why she stays with him,” he muttered.</p><p>She took a bite of salad. “Her family.”</p><p>They could hear muffled arguing from the other room. “I asked you to not do this while we have company,” you snapped. </p><p>“He’s buying my car,” he defended.</p><p>“We both know that not who is on the other line, <em>Samuel</em>!”</p><p>He chuckled. “Oh really? Then, who is on the other end?”</p><p>That’s when the arguing ceased and hushed, angry whispers took over. You stormed into the room and took your seat next to Nick and Charlotte, trying to hide your anger with Sam. However, dinner soon was filled with an awkward tension between you and your husband as you continued to glare at him from the other end of the table. You were sad to see Nick leave when the time came, but you took solace in the fact that he lived near and you now had family close to you. With one more person in your corner, you suddenly felt less alone in New York. You, Charlotte, and Sam stood on the front porch waving goodbye as Sam slid his arm around your waist. “I suspect you’ll be leaving soon,” you sneered.</p><p>He glared over at Charlotte before looking at you. “I don’t have any work in the office to do tonight, so I’m staying.”</p><p>You scoffed and turned to go back inside. Sam stopped you by grabbing your wrist. Charlotte moved to stand inside the foyer, but not too far away that she couldn’t rescue you from him. “I’ll not have you stand there accusing me…”</p><p>“Of what,” you glared, “the truth? Let go of me.”</p><p>He pushed your wrist away from him and watched you storm back into your elegant, Georgian Colonial mansion that your families happily paid for when you moved back into the states. Charlotte dutifully followed after you, leaving your cheating husband alone on the porch.</p><p>***</p><p>Nick turned into his drive and parked the car in the small garage. He saw someone stroll out onto his neighbor’s finely manicured yard. His neighbor’s mansion made his own cottage look like a cardboard box in comparison. Nick lived next to the Palace of Versailles, and he stayed in a peasant’s shack; he wouldn’t trade it for anything. As far as he could tell, Mr. Ashford resided in his palace alone - except for the lavished parties he threw every Friday night that were always packed with the entire state of New York.</p><p>He noticed the figure turn and wave at him, so he returned the gesture and walked towards the trimmed hedge that separated their properties. “Hello, neighbor,” he said in an accent that caught Nick off guard. It was obvious he had a hint of a southern accent that he tried to hide.</p><p>Nick smiled and shook his hand. “Hello, I’m Nicholas Fairfield,” he replied.</p><p>“The name’s Ashford,” he said, the accent coming out even more so when he pronounced his r’s, “Ezra Ashford.” He sighed and glanced past Nick at his less than tidy yard and garden that was in desperate need of weeding. “I’ve meant to drop by at a decent hour and introduce myself, but here we are late at night. I’m afraid I’m not a very good neighbor.”</p><p>Nick waved him off. “Don’t pay no mind to it. I was over at my cousin’s having a late dinner. She lives just across the bay from us, actually,” he replied, pointing to the bright green light off in the distance. </p><p>He couldn’t see Ezra’s face very well in the moonlight, but he could see him glancing longingly off towards the light. “Your cousin?” he asked in a soft whisper.</p><p>Nick nodded. “Yes, she lives in Sands Point. I’m sure you’ve heard of Samuel Crawford–.”</p><p>“Oh, yes. I’ve heard of him.”</p><p>Nick narrowed his eyes at Ezra when he noticed he snapped out of some sort of day dream and looked back at him. “That’s her husband,” he cautiously added.</p><p>Ezra nodded, desperate to change to subject. “Let’s have lunch this week,” he said, “how’s tomorrow?”</p><p>“I’m visiting some of my old college friends tomorrow, otherwise I would gladly accept your invitation,” he replied, watching his strange new neighbor carefully.</p><p>Ezra sighed, running his hand through his neat hair. “Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you too long, Nick.” He got the feeling Mr. Ashford was choosing his words with care as he ended their little encounter. He turned to leave, but then paused. “Your cousin,” he added, “is she friends with Charlotte Baker, the tennis player?”</p><p>He nodded, confused by this interaction. “Yes.”</p><p>Ezra ran his hand up and down his jaw, signifying he was lost in a deep pensive th0ught. “I’ll see you around, Nick.”</p><p>“Good night, Mr. Ashford,” he said.</p><p>“Good night.” He started walking towards his house, past the pool, only stopping in front of his path that led down to his own dock. Nick noticed he stared across the bay towards the green light at the end of your dock for a second longer than he probably should have. </p><p>What Nick didn’t know was the inner turmoil suddenly coursing through his mysterious neighbor. Ezra Ashford was everything he merely dreamt of five years ago, everything he’d promised he’d one day become. He finally had all he wanted to offer, only the one person he wanted to share it with was married to America’s playboy prince. They were the wealthiest socialite couple that everyone wanted to be. On the outside, they were picture perfect, but Ezra saw the headlines soon after their wedding. Samuel J. Crawford had continued his life as a philanderer, leaving you home alone to learn the news of his betrayal. It was the first of many scandals, and each one broke Ezra’s heart even more. He could see in the newspaper photos, the life slowly fading from your eyes; the happiness that everyone saw and envied was a lie. You were perfect at playing the part of the doting wife. Your mother had trained you well. Then again, your family’s expectations always governed the way you behaved in public. You never had much freedom, the freedom he’d long to provide you with. If only there’d been more time.</p><p>He sighed, turning to go back into the house. He wanted to ignore the little voice in the back of his head telling him this was his second chance he prayed for. The stars had finally aligned, putting all the pieces in place for him to finally see you again, to win you back.  To rescue you. “I’m here, my love,” he whispered, “I’m here.” He could feel the tug on his heart as he pictured you in your bed, sleeping peacefully.</p><p>Little did he know you were sleeping alone, like you did most nights. This time, you’d wandered into one of the guest rooms, disgusted with Sam. You’d managed to fall asleep after hours of tossing and turning, until you finally fell dreaming of the man you hadn’t seen in years but never stopped loving. Not for a second. You dreamt of the last time you’d seen him before he left on that damn ship. He was so suave and so handsome as his smile curled upwards, lighting his eyes up. Had it not had been for her family’s interference, she’d like to believe that they’d be happy together somewhere. Sam had his mistresses, and she had her dreams of the real love of her life: Ezra Ashford.</p>
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